Their Moments
by Nixi Who
Summary: 100 Whouffle one-shots based on one word requests.


**AN: I do not own Doctor Who, nor any of the characters. Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and this is merely a piece of fanwork. **

**Hello, lovelies! I've decided to take up a little challenge and try to write 100 whouffle one-shots, based on one word prompt/requests given by you readers (I'm also writing a River/11 one, which can be found on my profile). There's not much else to say than this, really, but there's more information at the bottom of the page. Enjoy!**

Their Moments

1/100: Baking

Clara Oswald let out a short squeal, as fumes of smoke, that smelt suspiciously like burnt soufflés, filled the air. Wrinkling her button nose at the disappointing stench, she stood up, the crumbling and soot-black dish in her oven-mittened hands, before placing the (well, what was supposed to be) soufflé on the counter, and then proceeded to push the oven door shut with one strong shove, and then finally wafted the escaped smoke from the oven away with her hands. Once she'd cleared the air, Clara glanced down at another one of her failed attempts of making a soufflé with a rather frustrated sigh. It seemed that even in the TARDIS' kitchen, she couldn't get the recipe right.

A small chuckle was heard from the doorway, and Clara turned around to see The Doctor standing several paces into the TARDIS' kitchen. Clara, on the other hand, was most certainly not amused, and in response to The Doctor's giggles, the brunette shot the Timelord an unimpressed frown, which immediately made The Doctor's expression of laughter stop, and his grin to drop into a sympathetic look. The Doctor shook his head gently, and then made his way over to Clara, placing both his hands on the sides of her arms.

"Hey, hey, hey..." He spoke softly, and rather comfortingly much to the brunette's approval (a small smile began to curve its way across her lips). "I'm sorry. You set off an alarm in the console room, thought it was rather funny, that's all. I'm sorry."

Looking down with another soft sigh, Clara wandered over to the kitchen table and pulled a chair out for herself and sat down. She propped her elbows up on the table and cupped her face between her hands. The Doctor, of course, followed after her in concern and sat down on the chair next to her. He hated seeing her upset.

"Practise makes perfect, y'know..." The Doctor said in the most convincing and encouraging voice he could manage. "You'll get there in the end..."

"But it's not just about the soufflé..." Clara replied in a rather quiet voice. "It was my Mum's recipe- and I can't get it right."

It was The Doctor's turn to sigh, as he couldn't quite find the words to comfort Clara, who at this point, had tears brimming in her eyes. Instead, the Timelord slowly reached over and wrapped his arms around the brunette. In response, Clara slowly leant into him, pressing the side of her head against his chest, snuggling into his tight and warm embrace. The Doctor continued to stroke and soothe her, murmuring hushes into her chocolate brown hair and repeatedly brushed his thumb against her shoulder, but even so, a few tears fell from Clara's eyes. The Doctor bit his lip and sucked in a tight breath; it broke his hearts to see the woman he loved cry.

Suddenly, an idea popped into the Timelord's head.

"Hey, Clara..." He began in a quiet voice, tilting his head to look down at her. "What was it that your Mum always said about making soufflés, in particular, the recipe?"

Blinking to dry her eyes, Clara sniffed and slowly sat up, so their eyes met.

"The... The soufflés not the soufflé, the soufflés the recipe..." Clara replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. "But, what's that got to do with anything?"

The Doctor went on and stood up, dusting his blazer and straightening his bowtie with pride, "Maybe we could tweak the recipe slightly? I understand that it wouldn't exactly be your _Mother's_ recipe, but it would be a soufflé nonetheless."

"Tweak the recipe?" Clara, who was now also standing up, folded her arms across her chest, rather unsure of the idea. "Tweak it how?"

"Well, for example..." The Doctor paused as he wandered over to the burnt black soufflé, bending down to take a large sniff (which Clara found rather comical and she struggled to hold in a giggle). "For example, you don't need as much milk. Milk's bad. Bad, bad milk."

Clara placed a finger over her lips to stop herself from giggling, making The Doctor grin. Even if she was laughing at him, it was better than tears.

"And... Eggs! Eggs are good. Another... Hmm..." The Doctor bent down and took another sniff, "I believe half of another egg is needed! Well, or at least a very small egg."

Another giggle escaped Clara's lips. "And, anything else?" She took several steps over to him.

"Nope!" The Doctor replied with a bright beam, "Less milk, more eggs, and possibly less time in the oven, and you shall have your perfect soufflé!"

"I don't think so..." With a soft smile on her face, Clara reached over to the bowtied Timelord and pecked his cheek, which as always, made The Doctor blush. "I think _we'll _have a perfect soufflé."

**AN: So, to request a one-shot just leave ONE word in a review or PM. If you have a more specific request, feel free to send one of those as well. :) You can also leave a request in my ask box on my tumblr, if you prefer a more anonymous way of sending a request (the link's on my profile page).**

**Reviews are fabulous! **

**Nixi~**


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